


Put the Gun Down

by Impalapossible



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bad Parenting, Depression, Drinking, Memories, Other, Song Lyrics, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7073062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impalapossible/pseuds/Impalapossible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the song Put the Gun Down by Andy Black,  Dean Winchester. Hunter. Brother. Son. Hero. Hurting child. Broken man. Sometimes those memories that haunt him the most return on nights where Dean would rather drink them away. However, he knows. Alcohol won’t change the past. And running away doesn’t fix things. Memories will come when they come and he will have to deal with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put the Gun Down

**Here’s where it starts, another night alone in the dark  
Hate is running through my veins  
Steady now I’m takin’ aim  
The darkness of day, all the skies are turning to grey    
I can’t tune the voices out   
How’d they get so Goddamn loud?**

Dean tried his best to sleep, but it escaped him. It did most nights now. If it weren’t for the alcohol, he would probably never sleep. Rubbing his face with his rough calloused fingers he sat up in his bed. The room was dark save for the light shining underneath the door. He sat for a moment deciding what he ought to do. There wasn’t a hunt to go on and he didn’t feel like researching anymore. His brain couldn’t cram anymore information in it tonight. Not with the memories flooding his mind. He reached out for the light on the bedside table and with a click it illuminated the room. 

Underneath it’s light, resting against the base of the lamp, rested one of his most precious possessions. A picture of he and his mother. 

‘Mom…’ Tears began filling in the corners of his eyes. He quickly turned away. Tonight was not the night to remember his mother. It would only cause the hurt in his heart to sting worse and the hate in his veins to burn stronger. 

He quickly shoved his feet off the side of the bed and threw his robe on. He did his best to remain quiet as he walked past Sam’s bedroom as he made his way towards the kitchen. He pulled out a six pack, tucking it under his arm and made his way towards the shooting range in the bunker. If he wasn’t going to sleep he was going to clean his guns and shoot something. 

He set the beers on the table where several of his guns sat, ready and waiting to be used. He fiddled with a few of them before one particular gun caught his attention. One of his fathers shotguns was resting against the wall where Sam usually kept the guns he was practicing with. Dean bit his lips as the tears returned. A clear memory of his father and younger brother permeating his senses.

**Can anybody hear me?  
Can anybody see me?  
Cause I think I lost my way  
Put the gun down, Just put the gun down  
** ******Will anybody watch me?  
** ******Is someone gonna stop me?  
** ****This could be my last mistake  
** ** ****Put the gun down, just put the gun down, down** **

_“Dean! You put that gun down right now!” John shouted as he came through the motel door. Both Dean and Sam looked up at their father and Sam began to cry from the harshness in his tone. John took in a deep breath and pulled the young boy into his arms, never letting his gaze drift from his older son holding a shotgun in his hands._

_“Set that gun on my bed right now Dean. I don’t know what the hell you are thinking messing with that with Sam in the room! He is four years old Dean. What if he got it in his head to play with one of those guns and ends up shooting himself. You are his older brother and you should know better.”_

_Dean cast his eyes downward, shame filling his being. His shoulders slumped over while he trudged towards his fathers bed, setting the shotgun down gently. He wasn’t going to leave it loaded. He had been practicing loading and unloading several weapons while John was away. He wanted to impress his father with his new skill. He wanted his fathers praise, the one thing he desired more than almost anything in the world._

_But instead of that praise which he craved, John was angry with him._

_“I’m sorry Dad. I…I was just trying to learn how to load and unload guns. I…I wanted to-”  
_

_“I don’t care what you wanted to do son. You don’t touch any of these guns around Sam, do you here me?”  
_

_A sniffle escaped Dean’s 8 year old frame. “But…but dad I just”_

_“Dean, you know who whines? Babies. Babies whine Dean.”_

**Here’s where it ends  
I’m never going back there again  
Cause every time I’m standing by  
The shadows in my line of sight  
When does it stop?**

Dean wiped away a few stray tears and cleared his throat. ‘Come on. Get your shit together. That was more than 25 years ago.’ He told himself, though he knew it was a futile effort. Nights like tonight, it was his very own version of being visited by the ghosts of hellacious memories past. 

He moved from the shotgun and reached for one of his pistols. He checked to make sure it was in working order before putting the clip in and turning quickly towards the target and letting off a few rounds. 

The feel of a gun in his hand. The sound of gunfire. The smell of gunpowder. They were on the shortlist of things which gave him comfort in this crazy world. 

He continued his assault on the target for a few more minutes before setting his gun back down on the table and reaching for a beer. The click of the bottle opening triggered another memory he wanted to forget. He grunted, running his fingers through his hair and he chugged the bottle down. He wanted to drink this all way. Suppress it all. 

**Cause I’m living cold and shut off  
Even when I clench my fists, It’s slipping through my fingertips  
Oh, cause there’s a piece, there’s a piece of me and it’s missing now  
Yeah, there’s a piece of me that’s breaking down**

_The fighting. Dean hated listening to John and Sam fight._

_“Where are you going Dean?”  
_

_“I am an adult now dad. I can go where ever the fuck I want and I am tired of listening to all of this bullshit. I am going for a walk.” He threw on his leather jacket, turning around briefly to see the fire burning behind John’s eyes as well as the pleading desperation of his 16 year old brother’s eyes. He couldn’t leave his brother alone there._

_“Come on Sammy. Let’s go get some supplies and let dad calm down.” Sam glared at is father before pulling his boots on and heading out with Dean.  
_

_“Fine. You two leave but you better be back before it gets dark or I will come hunt you both down and neither of you will get to drive for three months.”_

_“Fine. Whatever. Goodbye.”  
_

_The two boys waved through the streets of the small town they were staying at until they reached a convenience store. Sam loaded a basket with some fruits they had there while Dean went straight for the beer. He didn’t care that he wasn’t old enough, nor that he had to use a fake I.D. to purchase it._

_“Really Dean?” Sam said as Dean set his six pack on the counter.  
_

_“Don’t judge me banana boy.” He motioned towards Sam’s items._

_After paying for the items, Dean told Sam to head back. He needed to finish these beers off before he got home or John would kill him. Sam sighed, but nodded. “Don’t do anything stupid Dean.”_

_“When have I ever done anything stupid?”  
_

_Sam raised an eyebrow and appeared ready to say something, but decided against it. With a wave, he left. Dean didn’t waste a moment. He headed towards the local bar he spotted on the way into town. He waited to finish off all six of his beers before heading inside, his head already vibrating from the rush of alcohol. He ordered a shot of whiskey from the attractive red-headed bar tender before downing the burning liquid. The burn, the only feeling he wanted to feel right. The other pieces of him, the missing pieces, needed to be filled up with liquor._

_As his pains were drowned out by a few more shots, he felt his stomach churning. ‘I think I drank too much…I should head back…’_

_He stumbled away from the bar, doing his best to walk in straight lines and appear as though he wasn’t totally wasted. He made it back to the motel just in time to see his father standing outside their motel room door. The stern look on his face let Dean know he was in trouble, but he didn’t care. The alcohol made the worry slip through his fingers._

_“Heeeyyyy daaddd.. Ssrrry I’m laate.” He slurred. John shook his head.  
_

_“Dean, what are you doing?”  
_

_“Tryn’ to get away from you and Sammy. Fighting. Always fighting. Always always.”  
_

_John sighed and opened the door. “Sammy, help me get your brother to bed. He is drunk and he ain’t making it on his own two feet.”_

_“Fuck you..I c’n walk jus’ fine.” Dean said before his knees gave out and he felt himself crashing to the ground. John quickly caught him in his arms and together with Sam they helped him into one of the beds._

_“Let me go. I hate you dad.”  
_

_“Son, as I told you the last time you pulled this shit. if you don’t like me, that’s fine. It’s not my job to be liked. But don’t say things you don’t mean. Get to sleep and we are gonna talk about this in the morning.”  
_

_Dean raised his hands in protest, but John ignored him. Sam placed the blanket over him and suddenly sleep threatened to overtake him. His last memories of that night Sam and John in hushed voices fighting over his drinking. He felt another piece of him break as their voices lulled him to sleep._

**Can anybody hear me?  
Can anybody see me?  
Cause I think I lost my way  
Put the gun down, Just put the gun down  
Will anybody watch me?  
Is someone gonna stop me?  
This could be my last mistake  
Put the gun down, just put the gun down**

Dean reached for another gun and shot again, this time missing the target completely. “Dammit!” He shouted, trusting the pistol towards the target. It clattered against the cement floor. His anger pumped through him and he reached for one of the beer bottles and threw it in the same direction as the pistol. He watched as it shattered completely before stomping out of the gun range back towards his bedroom. The loudness of his steps must have stirred Sam, because when he passed by his bedroom door Sam peaked out a sleep head. 

“Dean…you okay?” 

“Go back to bed Sam.” Dean said sternly. His feet kept him moving forward towards his bedroom. He pushed the door open so hard the wood creaked and shook. He pulled the rob off, pulled on a pair of jeans and pushed his feet into his leather boots. He reached for his keys, wallet and cellphone, shoving them in the appropriate pockets and dashed out of his room. He heard Sam call after him one more time, but ignored it. He needed to go for a drive and clear his head. He couldn’t handle that bunker, that bed or these memories for a moment longer. 

The purr of Baby’s engine combined with Zeppelin was doing the trick. Or at least for a little while until he saw the flashing lights of a motel sign. He read the name and a sharp pain went up his right arm where the mark used to be. It was the motel where Charlie died. While the memory of her death haunted him, instead of the image of her in that tub, he remembered one of his sweeter moments her. 

**That’s when I look myself in the mirror  
Now I’m seeing things a little clearer  
Honest, I can’t hide what’s inside me  
I said I’m tired of pointing the finger  
Tired of this hand holding the trigger  
Now I’m done with that, I gotta take one step back**   
  
_”Dean, I am not moving out of the way until you talk to me.” Charlie said as she blocked him from exiting his bedroom._

_”Charlie, I don’t do the whole group therapy session. I am fine. I told you. Hell, I am great.” He knew he could overpower her, but he held back. A part of him wanted to take up her offer and to have someone to talk to._

_“No way Winchester. I see straight through your brooding Marlon Brando tough guy routine. Come on. You can talk to me. Is it the mark? Is it getting to you Dean?”_

_He sighed and nodded. “Yeah, but I can handle it.”_

_“You clearly can’t. Sam sees it. Cas sees it. And I really see it. You are full on Zombified Dean. We are worried about you. I am worried about you. You are like my big brother. It makes me sad to see you struggling so badly.” Charlie moved from the door towards Dean and wrapper her arms around him. He felt himself nearly break down right there, but he needed to keep his composure. He didn’t want to break down in front of her.  
_

_He returned her hug and placed a soft his on top of her bright red hair._

_“Thanks Charlie.”_

_Charlie let him go before punching him in the arm. He jokingly flinched and put on a mocking expression. “Ow that hurt.”_

_She rolled her eyes. “Oh please Dean. As if I could hurt you.”_

_“I dunno. When you were like two people I seem to remember having my head nearly crushed between some strong thighs. I am sure the ladies love that.” he winked at her and they both chuckled._

_It was nice to forget for a moment about the primal darkness growing inside himself._

**Can anybody hear me?  
Can anybody see me?  
Cause I think I lost my way  
Put the gun down, Just put the gun down  
Will anybody watch me?  
Is someone gonna stop me?  
This could be my last mistake  
Put the gun down, just put the gun down, down  
** ******Here’s where it starts, another night alone in the dark  
** ****Hate is running through my veins  
** ** ****Steady now I’m takin’ aim** **

Dean made it back to the bunker about mid-morning. He came down the spiral staircase to see Sam with his nose buried in a book. The younger Winchester looked up at him, a soft and knowing smile on his face. 

“There is coffee in the kitchen. I can’t promise it is any good. I brewed it a few hours ago.” 

Dean shook his head. “I am going to go crash. Don’t wake me up unless the world is coming to an end.” 

Sam nodded and Dean headed towards his bedroom. He shed all of his clothing down to his boxers, pulled the covers over himself and reached for the lamp. He looked again as his mothers picture and smiled. He knew the memories that came tonight would come again. He knew he would have more sleepless nights. But for now, a soft smile crossed his lips. 

“Goodnight mom.” 

Click. 


End file.
